


The God of Wishes

by Raven_Rein



Category: xxxHoLic, ノラガミ | Noragami
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Bonding, M/M, Pining, Romance, canon character death, living weapon, servant-master relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 11:20:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7712896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven_Rein/pseuds/Raven_Rein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The only spirits that has the potential to be a shinki are those who still wished to live." Watanuki smiled sadly at the eagle perched on his arm, familiarly scented smoke wisping a trail from the tips of its brown feathers "Is that why you're still here, Doumeki?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The God of Wishes

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first fic in the fandom. It's un-beta-ed so if you spot any mistakes please point it out to me so I can fix it. 
> 
> //sigh. I need a beta reader.

 

Forty-five years has passed every since he took over the title of the Shopkeeper. That was a long time, even for a boy whose time has stopped when he decided to try and fulfill the first wish he accepted as a shopkeeper, an eternity ago when the woman with red eyes still smiled at him. And not once in that long, long time does he felt regret for choosing what he did, and he never expected himself to.  

 

But now, as the phone receiver slipped from his slack grip, dropping with a dull thud on the hardwood floor, does that regret came at him like an ancient spirit, eating away his soul.  

 

Doumeki appeared behind him, his face contorted into near-invisible lines of worry and a sick dread twisted Watanuki's guts even more when he saw with clarity for the first time the slivers of white in black hair and the wrinkles around a familiar eyes. The little things that piled up over the years that he never cared to notice.  

 

He stumbled into his room, hand clutching his chest that refused to breathe. Behind him, he can hear Doumeki conversing with Takeru over the phone in soft words and condolences. With a firm snap of the sliding door, the rest of their words are drowned into the buzzing in Watanuki's ear.  

 

After years fighting her heart failure and despite the many charms and spells Watanuki sent her as protection and cure, Himawari died this morning.  

 

It was the burning realization that burns his throat with something acrid and bitter. That time passed as swiftly as water in a river, unstoppable, easily forgotten. And Himawari was only the beginning, because time will keep on going and in the end it will steal everything and everyone he held dear.  

 

For three weeks after Himawari's funeral that he cannot attend, not even in dreams because he knew it would be  _too much_ , Watanuki locked himself in his room, listening Tanpopo's wails and cries from its metal perch while drowning himself in  _sake_.  

 

When his eyes accidentally caught his own reflection on the surface of another liquor, he saw a boy with otherworldly old eyes set on a face that never and will never got the chance to really grow out their baby fat.  

 

Doumeki opened the door on the fifteenth day of Watanuki's self-imposed imprisonment to find a room with scattered pieces of broken  _sake_  bottles, their content leaving dark marks in the  _tatami_ , and the shopkeeper curling into himself underneath the blanket. With his arms, gentle despite the strength they can posses when they need to, he cradled Watanuki into sitting position and peeled the blanket away.  

 

Despite the lifeless flop of his hair and the cut on his cheek that he gained from throwing a bottle into the wall, Watanuki's eyes were dry when they gazed sadly into Doumeki's. He didn't cry, not when he received the news, not when he instinctively known that Himawari's funeral has started, not even after that.  

 

As if hardening himself for all the pain that will come--very soon, his mind whispered to him--, the shopkeeper kept his tears until there can be nobody to witness it.  

 

That night, after he let Doumeki manhandled him into a warm bath and shoved Kohane's homemade tempura and onigiri down his throat, he sat on the balcony,  _kiseru_  billowing sweet smoke into the night sky. He felt better. Still not alright, still in pieces, but better nonetheless. 

 

He invited Doumeki to join him with Himawari's favorite wine. The man seemed to be anxious about letting Watanuki anywhere near an alcoholic beverage so soon after consuming so many in so little time. But a small smile, the first in two long weeks, and he complied with a sigh.  

 

They sat there together for a long time, drinking in silence for the woman who was their friend and loyal companion.  

 

"How is Takeru?" The question followed a huffed breath of smoke.  

 

"He's fine." Doumeki answered while refilling Watanuki's empty glass. "He loved her, but he'll pull through." 

 

"I know he will." The shopkeeper acknowledged softly. "He's strong like that, that man. There would be no other way I would have been willing to let Himawari marry if he's not deserving of her." 

 

"What about you?" Doumeki asked after a moment. "Will you pull through?" 

 

Watanuki stared at his best friend's face at the question. He contemplated what to say, he thought about giving cryptic answer as he wont to do as of late or outright lying. But the long weeks wore him out, enough that the only thing he can force out is the far too-honest "I will, this time." 

 

Doumeki was silent for a long time after that. Watanuki knew he understood the meaning behind his words.  

 

After a few hours of quiet camaraderie, Tanpopo flew out of Watanuki's room to chirp at them and peck somberly at the available snacks. He, much like Watanuki, has been going for two weeks of grief without any substantial meal.  

 

When midnight struck its very first seconds, Tanpopo let out a cry and flew away, toward the front gate of the shop.  

 

Doumeki heard Watanuki gasp loudly beside him, eyes trained on the direction where Tanpopo is going. He doesn't know which shock him into speechlessness more, the fact that after so many years Watanuki's careful control of their connection snap to let him involuntarily see what he's seeing, or that Himawari is standing just beyond the threshold of the shop.  

 

She's wearing a white kimono with reversed collar, black curly hair in pigtails and aquamarine eyes sparkling with kindness. She didn't look like the frail woman Doumeki saw on a hospital bed just a month ago, she looked like the beautiful young woman of their long-ago high school days, framed by the light of summer fireflies.  

 

Tanpopo landed on her shoulder, snuggling into her cheek before nipping at her earlobe as if chastising her for leaving him behind. Her shoulders shook from a laughter which voice didn't carry to the two men who watches her.  

 

She turned her eyes on them and her smile became something softer, if a bit somber. But the look in those eyes are something that Watanuki would be willing to rip through worlds for. There's joy in those eyes, contentment and peace and it looked so mesmerizing on a woman whose eyes has always been a little bit lonely.  

 

She has led a good life, and she wanted them to understand that.  

 

Himawari waved at them from the light of summer fireflies and turned away, dissipating into the air along with Tanpopo's joyous chirps.  

 

"Where will she go? After death?" Doumeki asked while watching the remaining fireflies danced in the air, as if doing a closing performance on a great play.  

 

"The land of the death, the  _higan_." Watanuki answered after a long drag of his  _kiseru_. "Somewhere no living can reach, no matter how powerful they are." 

 

Doumeki made an understanding noise and down the rest remaining liquor in his glass before shoving it into Watanuki's face.  

 

"It's empty." 

 

With great interest, he watched as the sorrowful twist in his best friend's face turned into confusion then annoyance when he understood the demand.  

 

"Well yeah, I can see that." Watanuki grumbled and snatched the empty glass out of his hand. "Dumb caveman can't even pour a drink on his own." 

 

It has become quite a strange thing even for Doumeki to realize that he now associate Watanuki's bitching and mindless insults as a sign of him being in good health.  

 

When Doumeki received his glass full of red wine, he clicked it to Watanuki's before gulping down half of it in a single gulp. Watanuki stared at the glass, watching the reflection of the fireflies before following suit.  

 

They spent the rest of the night like that. Beneath the glow of moonlight and fireflies, drinking and quietly healing.  

 

Himawari's death hit him hard. Intellectually, he knew that someday it would happen, all beings have a beginning and so they will have an end. But knowing something and having it rip your heart out and trampling on it is a different thing.  

 

So he hardened his resolve and put up barriers around his heart. Because Himawari is the first, but a look into fading colors in eyes and hair and the weakening of firm hands told him that she wouldn't be the last.  

 

Maybe the reinforced steel he forcefully imbued into his own heart is what made him whether Kohane's death with much more dignity than he did Himawari's. It still sent an acrid taste in his throat and a burn behind his eyes. But he closed them and leaned into Doumeki's shoulder who had just told him the news.  

 

He never really knew who he was trying to comfort at that time.  

 

A swelling of a vein in the brain. It was what the doctors told the family as the reason for her death. It happened quickly, they say. She didn't even have time to register the pain. She passed away in peace.  

 

The funeral is held on the Doumeki temple ground. Many people came, some are familiar, some are not. Some are people whose life has been touched and helped by her divination and others by her kindness.  

 

This time Watanuki was there to see through the process. Doumeki's ten years old granddaughter is sleeping on her mother's hold and it had been easy to slip into her dream and attend the funeral.  

 

"She was well loved by many people." Haruka said beside him, observing the full attendance that flooded the ceremony and the quiet sobs. "I'm glad that Shizuka had the luck of having her in his life." 

 

"Me too, Haruka-san." Watanuki smiled sadly "She was an amazing woman, anyone would be lucky to have known her and have her in their lives." 

 

"You're not crying." The older man observed. Watanuki took his eyes off the figure of Doumeki with his hands clasped to pay his last respect to his wife to meet one of Haruka's rare frown that made him feel like a child that had done something wrong. 

 

"I'm sure that if she's alive, she wouldn't want anyone to be sad over her death, Haruka-san. She's that kind of person." 

 

Haruka seemed to consider this for a moment. A glance to his too sharp eyes told Watanuki what he needed to know; the priest has seen through his half-lie. 

 

"Watanuki, when it will be Shizuka's time, what will you do?" 

 

The question stopped the shopkeeper's heart for a moment. He bowed his head and tried to stare through the wooden flooring. 

 

"I don't know, Haruka-san." He whispered loud enough for the spirit beside him to hear "But I think I will find out soon." 

 

Watanuki woke up in his shop with tears clinging to his eyelashes at the memory of Kohane's coffin being pushed into the crematory. He took deep, gasping breaths to calm himself before he can even think of anything other than the fear gnawing away at his heart.  

 

That night Doumeki came to his shop still in his black formal kimono and neatly-combed hair in a wild disarray. He looked weary and older than Watanuki ever remember him being.  

 

Kohane never took to drinking like her husband or her mentor, so that night they silently ate sweet  _tamagoyaki_  in the back porch with whiskey in their glass. 

 

There were no moon tonight, but spring is on its way to full bloom and the  _sakura_  tree he planted to remember by a girl worlds away is shedding their petals against the black starlit sky. Their gentle flutter as they descend reminded Watanuki of Kohane's namesake,  _snow that falls like little feathers_.  

 

From the way Doumeki's hand are not moving either to eat or to drink, he knew he's thinking of the same thing.  

 

"I saw Kohane-chan this evening." Watanuki admitted. "In a dream, on the temple ground where we played mahjong to send away the spirit woman back before I took over the shop, do you remember?" 

 

Doumeki nodded and was silent for a long time before he asked; "How did she look?" 

 

"She was happy. She asked me to tell you that she's thankful for everything." Watanuki expected the humm's or the one-word confirmation that defined Doumeki's personality. What he didn't expect is for him to put on a tight expression and placed his glass back on the tray.  

 

"I couldn't give her what she deserved." He told Watanuki "I'll regret that until the end." 

 

Watanuki tried to fight his knee-jerk reaction of curl into himself whenever he was reminded that Doumeki is all he had left. He wanted to snipe  _that won't be very long from now_. Rather, he somberly asked; "What did you not give her?" 

 

Doumeki huffed and a small smile with a touch of self-deprecation curved his lips "My love." 

 

"You don't love her?" He eyed the man beside him and recalling Kohane's smile when they came into the shop with matching rings, the spark in her eyes when he watched their marriage in a dream and felt heat rising up the back of his throat "What do you mean, Doumeki?" 

 

The man stared at him and every moment that passed without answer fills the hollowness in him with burning fury, pouring heat into the abyss and turning all the feeling he locked up and chained rattling against their hold. 

 

"I mean it as it is." 

 

When the red haze that covered his sight subsided, he met Doumeki's eyes from a higher viewpoint. The front of the dark  _kimono_ twisted in his trembling grip and he realized the thump he heard must be Doumeki's back hitting the flooring. 

 

"Please tell me." He said, deadly calm "That you don't mean what I think you do." 

 

"What do you think I mean?" Doumeki asked. 

 

"That you don't love her, that you're just using her and married her under a  _false pretense_."  

 

Doumeki was silent for a long time, staring straight into Watanuki's wavering eyes. 

 

"I was using her." He said at least and before Watanuki can recoil in horror, he added "And she was using me." 

 

"What?" 

 

"As I said." He kept the same tone as he always did, watching the minute shifts in the expression of the shopkeeper hovering above him. "We used each other for our own agenda. We never married out of love." 

 

The bitter taste is back, coating his tongue.  

 

"You never loved her." 

 

"No. I loved Tsuyuri. Just not how I'm supposed to. Not how she deserved to be loved."  

 

Watanuki snatched his hand away from Doumeki's kimono and stared at him for a long while. From his  completely white hair and the deepened lines of his face. And the strength and the exhaustion in his eyes, milky with age.  

 

The shopkeeper slid his eyes to the rain of cherry blossom.  

 

His head was too muddled to be sorted out and he can't bear looking back down on the reminder that very soon he will be left all alone.  

 

"Then just tell me this." He whispered "Why did you marry her?" 

 

"Because there are something we want to protect. And this is the only way we can do it." There was a reverberation of an old resolution in Doumeki's voice, it was as weary as its owner. 

 

He sent Doumeki away after that and locked himself in his room. That night he dreamed of Kohane's smile and Himawari's laughter and woke up feeling empty.  

 

When afternoon rolled around with the sun shining too annoyingly bright, Doumeki returned to the shop with a plastic filled with fresh squids, gingers and bamboo shoots and demanded harumaki for dinner like nothing happened. Watanuki grumbled, snatched the grocery and stomped to the kitchen to heat up the oil. He resolved himself to forgetting yesterday's conversation.  

 

The next day, the Doumeki's came bearing an urn and a photograph of Kohane to be placed in the shop. " _It was mother's wish to be placed here"_  they said after handing him a divination book handwritten by Kohane when she was alive. So he lets them set up an altar in an unused room where Kohane used to sleep whenever she stayed over at the shop.  

 

Doumeki's daughter, Shiki, is holding her son's hand while her husband is lighting incense. She smiled sadly when Watanuki asked why her father is not here. 

 

"He said he'll come here on his own tonight. He must be tired, you know that he's not as young as he used to be." 

 

"He's just looking for a reason to sleep in, I'm sure." Watanuki grouched in the way that only the Doumeki's has the privilege to witness "He's only, what, seventy-two? That's still young enough for a Doumeki. And for being 'not as young as he used to' that stomach is as vast as it used to be." 

 

Shiki snickered at the huffed retort. There were still grief in her eyes, but Watanuki knew she will be alright, she's strong like her father and great-grandfather and probably the ancestors that came before that. Watanuki wondered if stubbornness and determination is family trait that run in the Doumeki's blood alongside exorcism power. If so, then it's annoyingly prevalent.  

 

That night Doumeki came to the shop, but unlike Shiki's declaration, he came with his son-in-law who had the misfortune of lifting around a duffel bag and a heavy bundle with the shape of a bow. 

 

They deposited everything what has been unofficially dubbed as 'Shizuka's room' before telling the shopkeeper that Doumeki will be living with him from now on so go and make inarizushi because I'm hungry.  

 

The shopkeeper stared blankly following the deadpan declaration before color start filling his cheeks. Doumeki's son-in-law doesn't have the nerves of steel the archer posses to still his feet as the now-steaming mage took brisk steps forward with a murderous expression.  

 

"What made you think you can just barge into someone's house and say you will live with them without permission? Who said I will let you live here anyway!" 

 

"I did." 

 

After that, Watanuki exploded spectacularly. It was a rare occasion that he became so indignantly angry he slipped back to the long-forgotten habit of flailing his arms and yelled red-faced at the monosyllabic answers and non-committal hums Doumeki gave for his every question.  

 

Doumeki's son-in-law looked befittingly spooked to witness the shopkeeper that for seven years he knew to be even-tempered, wise and kind erupt like a massive volcano with hours-long tirade as the proverbial lava. He excused himself the first moment he could before Watanuki could get to the level of angry he need to start to spazz out.  

 

Once again, the archer was graced by Watanuki's unfailing ability to scream his head off while his hands steadily worked on countertops to deliver foods that, from his own experience, can make gods fight between themselves to get a whole box of.  

 

However, after all was shouted and done, Doumeki did end up living in the shop. And indeed, it was a live far easier than he led on the temple because Watanuki glared at him every time he did an activity he judged to be too strenuous on his aging body. The shopkeeper also mothered him so well he gained four pounds after living there for just a month.  

 

He liked to drink  _sake_  on the tatami room with back door wide open to let in summer breeze while watching the shopkeeper hung laundry in the backyard while the twins and Mokona are fooling around with a water hose.  

 

Whenever he gazed into that relaxed posture and the softness of his expression that would be translated into an unconscious smile on a normal person, Watanuki thought that he looked well and truly content.  

 

Years later, that contentment never bled out, not even until Doumeki's deathbed.  

 

One morning, Watanuki woke up knowing that today is the day.  

 

He notified the family in the morning and they rushed to get there. His daughter and granddaughter with their respective men rushed into the shop but entered the room in a much more sedate pace. His grandson, having a field trip, cannot make it back.  

 

They were there to say their goodbyes, so Watanuki left them to it. He opted to make tea, but his shaking hands cannot hold the fine china without sending them to shatter on the floor.  

 

As he gathered the pieces and let his fingers bleed, he wondered if Doumeki's family will bring him home to spend the last day together.  

 

They didn't.  

 

After Doumeki's family left, Watanuki sat by him the whole night, telling him various stories of another worlds, Syaoran's recounting of his journey, forgotten folklore from a miniscule corner of the world, the expensive pink salt Ren brought him for his birthday. When he ran out of things to recount, he started singing lullabies and folk songs from many cultures and languages. All the while, he left his hand on Doumeki's feeble grasp.  

 

"I guess you'll never get to see Ren getting married, huh?" He whispered when his words has tapered off into silence. "She will hate you for that." 

 

The hand that enveloped his squeezed and tugged with more force than Watanuki thought they can still muster. He stared at that hand for a moment before giving in and slipped under the cover, laying his head on the same pillow as the other man.  

 

They are so close now that he can feel his body heat. Even in this moment, he was warmer than anyone he ever came in contact with. In that room, nothing but the quiet breathing of the two people who has forgotten how to exist without each other broke the silence.  

 

Doumeki looked so different now from the adolescent boy in his distant memory from when Watanuki fly-kicked his way into a meeting. His hair is now as white as the snow falling just beyond the walls, lines so deep they seemed to be engraved on the far too familiar face.  

 

The shopkeeper didn't let himself contemplate what will happen after this. He didn't let himself think of the bleak future filled with loneliness, didn’t let himself imagine how it would be to bring out two shot glasses from the cupboard rather than one out of habit when he want to drink on the porch.  

 

He didn't let himself think of such things, but the tears came anyway. 

 

A hand, calloused and smelling of dirt, wiped away his tears. It glided languidly over his damp skin before dropping to the bedding. Doumeki looked tired from doing such simple thing.  

 

So Watanuki smiled, soft but genuine because Doumeki deserved this. If he chose to have Watanuki as the last person to be by his side, then the only thing left for him to do is to give him the proper farewell.  

 

A smile, a squeeze of entangled fingers, a ghostly kiss on the forehead.  

 

The man pressed his forehead to the other's, feeling soft breath caressing his cheek. 

 

"Thank you. For everything." 

 

It was how Doumeki Shizuka breathed his last, with their foreheads pressed together and hands clasped together between them, seventy eight years after he met Watanuki Kimihiro. 

 

 

\-- 

 _When your back is trembling from loneliness_  

 _Like a solitary bird taking a flight_  

 _I will be here, waiting_  

 _As nothing but a branch for you to rest on_  

 _-Tsukiko Amano "Bodaiju"_  

 _\--_  

The God of Wish 

XXXHolic fanfiction by Raven Rein 

\-- 

Chapter 1 

An Eagle's Glide 

\-- 

_"_ Watanuki, customers!" 

 

"Watanuki, customers!" 

 

The man, dressed in opulent kimono and intricate hair ornament, opened his eyes irritably and rose from his reclined position on the cushions.  

 

Another customer had just came by at the break of the dawn and asked to revive a comatose spouse, so he tried to do so by getting into the spouse's dream. The coming of another customer while he was just seeking the link to his customer's dream must be a sign that he would not be able to finish the request today. 

 

The  _shoji_ door opened and two people step through. One looks was all it took for him to assess that they are not people, no, they are much, much more than that.  

 

"It's been a long time, Iwami. It's good to see you still in good health." Watanuki addressed the older of the two.  

 

"Shopkeeper." Iwami bowed deeply. "It does has been some time since we've met, I see that you are still as healthy as you were." 

 

"It's hard not to, considering my condition." He answered gently and shifted his gaze to the other individual, a child with black hair that openly stared at him. "And you are, young man?" 

 

The child startled.  

 

"I'm Ebisu." 

 

Watanuki's eyes widened as he took in the child before him, remembering the image of another man, clumsy, awkward yet kind, and his eyes became sad.  

 

"So you are the new reincarnation of the God of Fortune, Ebisu?" Watanuki smiled warmly at the god with a child's appearance who stared at him with a blank, innocent expression. "It's good to finally meet you." 

 

"It's good to meet you too." Ebisu answered with a formal bow executed awkwardly like he just practiced it this morning. He probably did. "I heard that you were a friend to the one who held the name Ebisu before me, so I thought I would like to meet you and become as close as we used to be." 

 

"There is no need for such formality, as you said we just have to be friends. Now come, why don't we get to know each other over tea?" The shopkeeper beckoned them to the  _shoji_ door that will lead them to the garden. "Maru, Moro, bring over the tea and cakes!" 

 

"Yes, Watanuki!" The twins sang in unison and raced each other to the kitchen, giggling all the way.  

 

The young shopkeeper guided them to the Japanese-style rock garden. It was something he invented himself after the previous owner was gone, he told them with a smile.  

 

They sat on the table set on a gazebo on the middle of the sea of smooth ivory rocks. The three of them idly chatted as they twins came out with tea and strawberry shortcakes.  

 

Ebisu spent sometime staring starry-eyed at the perfectly-cut, mouth-watering cake while Iwami commented politely on how the color of the tea set complimented the snack very well. 

 

"Kimihiro-san?" 

 

Watanuki stopped his idle chat with Iwami about the recent trespass of the western Angel of Death to the Japanese's realm to smile at the hesitating call.  

 

"Yes, Ebisu- _kun_? Is something the matter?"  

 

Ebisu puffed out a cheek with flickering eyes and once again Watanuki were reminded of his predecessor with his habit of silently tonguing the inside of his cheek whenever he wanted to ask something uncomfortable.  

 

"I heard that the previous Ebisu was close to the Guardian of the Shop of Wishes." 

 

Watanuki's hands froze.  

 

"I... see." Watanuki smiled at him. "I'm sorry, but you can no longer meet him." 

 

"I know." Ebisu nodded jerkily and began fingering the tabletop. "Iwami told me about him and I thought he was a good man." 

 

The shopkeeper glanced at Iwami to see a grave expression settling onto the Shinki's face.  

 

"Actually that is also the reason for our visit today, shopkeeper." He threaded gentle tone with his serious voice "We wish to pay our respect to the Guardian of the Shop." 

 

After a moment of quietness, Watanuki placed his cup back to the saucer and smiled. "Of course. Please, follow me." 

 

The three of them walked to Doumeki's room where the altar is set up. The three-tiered table with red tablecloth showed stitching of golden dragon whenever the candle swayed to flicker red glow over the fabric. In front of Doumeki's picture is a slice of strawberry shortcake, topped with a lucridilous amount of whipped cream the way Watanuki knew he stupidly adored when he was alive.  

 

The young god and his shinki knelt before the altar and prayed after lighting up incenses.  

 

After they were done they went back to the gazebo to eat the remaining cake and chat about the recent happenings in a lighthearted atmosphere. When twilight finally came, Watanuki escorted the other two to the front gate. 

 

"Kimihiro-san?" Ebisu stopped in front of Watanuki "I have a wish that I want you to grant." 

 

"You will have to pay the price for it, is that alright?" He replied. Ebisu nodded and looked up.  

 

"I wish to come to your birthday party." 

 

Watanuki started and stared at the small god who, in turn, stared at him. "And why would you do that?" 

 

"I have a  _koto_  in Takamagahara, the music it makes is so beautiful. Iwami told me it was your birthday gift to me, so I would like to give you something for your birthday. As the price of this wish, I will tell you something that the one before me wrote in his diary about you." Ebisu answered.  

 

Watanuki inwardly balanced the wish and its price. When he found that the price is right, he couldn't help but to wonder what did Ebisu wrote about him. So he smiled tentatively, and nodded to the god.  

 

"My birthday is April First, just like my name. Please feel free to visit me at that date." 

 

Ebisu beamed at him and nodded once, but his smile was so radiant Watanuki knew he made the right choice despite the risk that came with telling someone of power his birthday.  

 

"Gods are being who are born out of people's wishes. When many people wishes for the same thing we are born for that wish alone, and we are granted power to fulfill them." Ebisu started reciting what Watanuki knew to be the price, for the words carry weight "But then what about the shopkeeper of wishes? They who were once human is now a being whose purpose is to grant wishes of the people, unbound by the laws of Heavens nor their birthright for they are not limited to the wishes that gave birth to them. If gods are beings that received powers from people's wishes, then what existence are the shopkeepers who grants wishes with their own power?" 

 

Ebisu and Iwami stepped outside the boundary of the shop and disappear into a distorted flash of blue light.  

 

"Is that alright, Watanuki?" Mokona asked somberly when he returned to the porch to find the creature waiting for him.  

 

"I'm sure that it will be just fine. Neither Iwami nor Ebisu are the type to misuse something as important as a birthday." He answered Mokona, who is now jumping up to perch on his shoulder.  

 

"His price  was strange." Mokona remarked.  

 

"It certainly was." Watanuki mulled "What existence is the shopkeeper, indeed." 

p/p

 

Gods are rare patrons of his shop. Shinkis would sometimes come to him to seek guidance from someone who are wiser but were born human. Gods, however minor they are, are too proud to come and make a wish no matter what condition they are in.  

 

Watanuki returned to his room after telling Maru and Moro to clear the gazebo. He slept and slipped into dreams.  

 

Days rolled into months and soon the last traces of winter are melting into the ground, giving way to the first life of spring. When the weather warmed and the cherry bloomed, Watanuki met with Ebisu again.

This time, Iwami was not with him. Rather, it was another shinki who called himself Kunimi. Ebisu's new lead Shinki.  

 

"I can't stay very long, Kimihiro-san." Ebisu said in distress.  

 

"I know. Chaos is happening in heaven because of a human who plays god." Watanuki answered gravely. "You need to be careful too, Ebisu. I doubt that any god is safe from his reach." 

 

"I understand. I will have to go now, but I need to give you this." Ebisu pulled something out of his pocket and gave it to the shopkeeper. 

 

"This is... a bamboo flute?" The shopkeeper appraised the flute, running is finger over the small, delicate carvings on the elegant dark wood that conveys the image of blades of grass and a bird taking flight. 

 

"It's your birthday gift, Kimihiro-san. I understand that as the shopkeeper, you cannot accept something without an equal price. That's why, I wish that you would save the lost soul on the other side of this flute as compensation."   

 

"I accept your wish, however the compensation is too great." Watanuki smiled. He gave a small bundle to Ebisu. From the wrappings and securely tied red strings, the god pulled out a small compass. "To equalize the wish, accept this. It will tell you whenever a dangerous energy is near. It may help you with the sorcerer." 

 

"Thank you." Ebisu smiled.  

 

That night, after the god of fortune made a hasty leave with his new lead shinki, Watanuki found himself on the back porch of the shop after Mokona and the girls are asleep. The shopkeeper walked to the middle of the rock garden and gazed at the full moon. He brought the flute to his lips.  

 

"Now, let's see who is lost on the other side." 

 

He played a few tentative notes, long fingers trailing elegantly on the smooth curves of wood. He never played a flute before, but soon he found out that doesn't need to. The flute told him what to do, and what sound it want to produce. Soon, a high, sweet tone of a melancholic song filled the air.  

 

As if being summoned, wind came to shake loose leafs from the sakura tree and the night sky lost their stars. Only the moon is now visible in the utter darkness. The shopkeeper doesn't stop playing the song until the flute decided to trail off the sound and became silent.  

 

Watanuki brought his hands down and searched the skies with both eyes until he caught the visage of something flying over the shine of the moon.  

_A bird?_  Watanuki thought to himself as he watched the shadow descend. A shrill cry followed the figure as he slowly can make out more details about the birds as it hurtled closer toward him in an impressive speed.  

 

The bird is an eagle, large even for its species with majestic wings that scattered moonlight between their feathers. As the eagle drew closer, the shopkeeper noticed the trail it left on the moonlight—scatters of smoke, fine like mist and stays undissipating for a long time.  

 

He raised one arm forward as the bird flapped its wings to stop its momentum and  caught a familiar smell. Sweet, heavy and cloying—it was the same smell that his  _kizami_  produced.  

 

The eagle flapped his wings one last time and his feet gripped Watanuki's extended arm, perching there. The weight, or lack of it, of the eagle was what made him certain that this bird is not of the living being. It was a creature of the Far Shore, called by music of the flute Ebisu gave him.  

 

For a moment, he lets himself be mesmerized by the beautiful creature on his arm. Feathers that glows golden darkening into black at the tips of its wings, with speckles of snow-white with seemingly no rhyme specking the darkness of its body. It was large, large enough that one of its wing extended could be as long as Watanuki's arm.  

 

But that moment pass when the eagle's sharp eyes met his. Watanuki could feel himself freeze at the familiar gaze. Unbidden, a melancholic smile tugged at his lips.  

 

"I guess you couldn't just stay dead, could you?" He said with an amused smile, voice low to keep it from breaking. The eagle just shook its wings and return to staring at the shopkeeper.  

 

Watanuki stroked the bird's head with the back of his knuckles tenderly, warmth and sorrow tightening his chest when it nuzzled back into his touch. It's so warm, as warm as he remember it to be.   

 

"The only spirits that has the potential to be a shinki are those who still wished to live." Watanuki smiled sadly at the eagle perched on his arm, familiarly scented smoke still wisping a trail from the tips of its brown feathers "Is that why you're still here, Doumeki?" 

 

The eagle—Doumeki's spirit—rolled its eyes, ineffective in an avian eye socket but it got the meaning across. If he can speak, it would probably deadpan a  _'duh'_.  

 

"But you can't stay. Not here." Watanuki said softly. "You need to go, to the other side. Here, you will be vulnerable to the  _ayakashi_. If they taint you, you won't be able to return as you are." 

 

Doumeki stared at him through eyes as sharp as they were when they still belonged to a living face. Even wordlessly, Watanuki knew what that look meant.  

 

"Stubborn." He mocked the other.  

_"If gods are beings that received powers from people's wishes, then what existence are the shopkeepers who grants wishes with their own power?"_  

 

Watanuki blew a breath and snorted when he realized the implication of that question. Doumeki watched him, waiting as patiently as ever for an explanation that might or might not come depending on the shopkeeper's mood.  

 

"There might be a way to keep you here. But it will come to a price." The shopkeeper explained. Doumeki notched up his folded wings in a approximation of a human's straightening of shoulders. The tilt of his head asked  _Tell me what it is._  

 

"Your memories. All of them. From the start to the end, everything you remember of your past life will be sealed away in exchange for a new one." Watanuki declared "However, if you accept this, you will be bound to me, Doumeki. Forever." 

 

Doumeki nodded without hesitation.  _I accept_.  

 

"Are you sure? You understand the meaning, don't you? You won't be able to leave my side, you won't be able to meet Kohane-chan or Himawari-chan in the Far Shore, you will be  _here_ ,  _with me_  and you won’t be able to leave." 

 

There was still no trace of hesitation in Doumeki as he eyeballed the shopkeeper with a look that conveyed the message  _"You're an idiot_ " succinctly.  

 

"Doumeki." Watanuki hung his head, staring at the newly-grown grass, darkened by their shadows. "Why would you do this for me?" 

 

A sharp nip made him flinch and glare at the offender who unchangingly stared at him with a steady, amber gaze. The shopkeeper rubbed his forehead where he was nipped, finding it tingling with warmth.  

 

"Oh, fine, whatever." Watanuki grumbled.  

 

One more look that asked  _Are you sure?_  was answered as unflinchingly as ever. Smiling and thinking of what an idiot he is for doubting a Doumeki's resolve, Watanuki slashed his arm forward. Taking the cue, Doumeki flew from that hand to hover mid air. 

 

A pulse of energy rippled through the air as the shopkeeper concentrated his magic on the tips of his fingers. Raising it, he pointed his index and middle finger toward the hovering eagle and began to write a kanji in thin air, snow-blue light trailing from the tips of his fingers.   

 

"You who have not a place to go. I, Tsubasa, will give you a place to belong. You, who lingers here with your true name, I shall bestow you an alias with which you shall become my servant. Obey me and become my Regalia. Your name will be Shizuka, your vessel Mitsu. Come, Mitsuki!" 

 

The kanji that was written on air turns into limbs of light that become cocoon around the figure of the flying eagle. Watanuki held his breath as the light compressed into itself and started to grow even brighter before it scattered and a bright spark of light burst forth from the center to shot toward him.  

 

The shopkeeper was ready for this and he held out a hand, letting it be engulfed in a light filled with a familiar warmth of a soul he was linked to. It spread to his shoulders and the light finally dissipates into the spring breeze.  

 

"Well." Watanuki smiled wrily "I wonder why I even expect something else from you." 

 

Held in his grasp is a wooden bow taller than he is. The dark wood is sturdy and warm underneath his palm, carved with images of eagles and gold ornamented the edges where the strings began. The string itself is nothing like Watanuki ever saw, sometimes it flickers gold and sometimes it disappear from view just to show its luster again the next moment. On his hand is a dark gauntlet made out of fine leather and chest guard that draped on his shoulder, ornamented with the same gold on the bow.  

 

"Revert, Shizuka." Watanuki commanded and the  _shinki_  glows blue and white. The light gathered away from him and it scatters into a person, standing on his backyard wearing a reversed white yukata.  

 

The newly named  _shinki_  opened his eyes, it was an amber so achingly familiar Watanuki lost his breath. The Shizuka in front of him looked like he did when he was twenty-nine, sturdy build and black-haired. When he stood facing away from a sakura tree shedding its petals, he thought that he never saw something more beautiful.  

 

"Who are you?" His voice, deep and reverberating, asked in a calm monotone.  

 

This time, Watanuki doesn't need to fake his smile, it came to him blinding and joyous when he answered.  

 

"I'm Watanuki Kimihiro. From now on, we will be together. It's good to be with you, Shizuka." 

 

.. 

Chapter 1 

END 

… 

To be continued

\--

Gods are rare patrons of his shop. Shinkis would sometimes come to him to seek guidance from someone who are wiser but were born human. Gods, however minor they are, are too proud to come and make a wish no matter what condition they are in.    

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Doumeki's eagle form is a golden eagle (Aquila chrysaetos). I chose eagle because in CLAMP's art, he has been symbolized as one as much as Watanuki has been symbolized as a long-tail feathered bird. I think it's rather beautiful.  
> 2\. For those who wondered, I changed the kanji of Doumeki's name from 静 to 密. Thus, the name 'Shizuka' and vessel name 'Mitsuki'.  
> 3\. Watanuki's real name is Tsubasa because it's canon that 'Watanuki Kimihiro' is a fake name and since his real name has never been disclosed, iI think it would be fitting for him to share Syaoran's real name since they are, well, you know.  
> On the side note. God, do I need a beta-reader for this monster fic.  
> 4\. The children of Doumeki's are named as the opposite gender. Thus, the daughter is Shiki, the granddaughter Ren and the grandson Tsubaki. This is because Haruka, Shizuka and Sayaka (Doumeki's great-grandson official name) are all female's name.


End file.
